


Bet You Won't

by JellyDishes



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Gen, offscreen fenris/hawke and bethany/varric, sibling hijinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:21:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25925068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JellyDishes/pseuds/JellyDishes
Summary: Bethany Hawke and her brother are both well aware of each other's mutual crushes, and what better way to tease your sibling than to bring it up at every conceivable opportunity?
Relationships: Bethany Hawke & Hawke, Bethany Hawke & Male Hawke
Comments: 4
Kudos: 3





	Bet You Won't

“You,” Bethany announced one afternoon, “need to stop moping.”

Ewias Hawke lifted his head from his hands with a look of the purest outrage, which only made Bethany’s smile crack into a wide grin. She always had been dreadfully fond of being candid, he groused inwardly, and of rubbing salt in the wounds when she was. “I am not _moping_ ,” Ewias muttered, though he couldn’t exactly meet her eyes for unrelated reasons. “I was thinking, you know, ruminating? You should try it sometime.”

Bethany ignored that. She instead rolled upright from where she had been lolling beside him on the sand and leaned in. He leaned back, but it didn’t do any good. “You’re wearing the face,” she said.

“What face? This is my face. I wear it almost every day, it’s in fashion these days.”

“It could spoil milk,” she told him with that same grin Carver had worn when he’d used to hide frogs in their boots. “You’re thinking about Fenris. You,” she announced as if summing up some kind of thesis statement, “are pining.”

“Wh- how-” Ewias sputtered with much less dignity than he’d hoped. “I wouldn’t call it pining,” he added with even less and sought about for something suitably convincing to say, eventually settling on, “It’s called strategizing.”

“Uh-huh. Does it include hanging around his mansion without going in, or have you gotten to the part where you go to talk to him and then make a bad joke?”

“My jokes are fantastic, thank you very-”

 _“Ewias.”_ If his face would’ve spoiled milk, the expression she wore now would have made that milk apologize for not living up to the cow’s expectations. She’d even crossed her arms, which he thought was going a step too far, but he wasn’t going to say that.

What he was going to say instead, was a very reasoned, thoughtful, _“Bethany.”_

He heroically did not laugh at her groan, or feel more than the sufficient amount of pride when he added in a faux-casual tone, “I suppose I’ll have to go get relationship advice from Varric, then…” He sighed dramatically, knowing it would only annoy her, and it did. 

“What?” Her confused scowl was well worth the price of admission. “Why? I’m right here, offering you advice, which you still have yet to take, might I add?”

“Well, clearly he’d be in the know, considering how very up-front you’ve been about the pining and yearning you’ve been doing for him. In fact, I’ll go get him right now and-” 

He started to get to his feet, only to be almost tackled back down to the beach as Bethany gave a yell. He was already laughing as he went down, ending on a whoop as Bethany glared down at him with a face made red from embarrassment and the sort of trepidation only siblings could know. “No!” Bethany said for what he realized was the second time, and that the first time hadn’t just been a battle cry. “Ewias, no! You can’t!”

“And why not?” He asked up at her. He may or may not have been wearing his own variation on that grin she’d had on earlier, which she tended to call insufferable. “You _have_ told him, haven’t you? Oh,” he drew out on a knowing sigh at the look on her face, which truly was a study, “you haven’t. Well, this truly comes as a shock, that the most candid of baby sisters hasn’t even told the object of her affections that she wrote his name on the-”

“Fine!” She interrupted, uncrossing her arms to throw her hands up in the air. “Fine! What do you suggest then, because clearly neither of us can be trusted to tell either of them anything.”

Ewias didn’t even hesitate. “I propose a bet.” He winced almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth, because Bethany was well known in the Hawke family to be merciless when it came to anything of the sort. Still, he had his pride, if nothing else, and raised his chin as much as he could from where he lay when she looked dubious. “And I’ll win it, too.”

“What sort of bet?”

“The bet is, I’ll confess…” he hesitated, stumbled, and went on, “you know… things, to Fenris before you do Varric. And when I do, you have to clean out the privy at Gamlen’s.”

It was a testament to the state of that room that Bethany’s face managed to twist still further. “And when I win?”

“I, uh… I’ll…”

“When I win,” she finished for him, “I’ll take my winnings in seeing the look on your face when I ask Fenris what he thinks about you. Candidly.”

“You wouldn’t.” A beat, as he looked at his sister. “You would. Augh… Fine. Fine! Let’s do this.” Without pause, he turned to the side and spat in his hand as Bethany did the same before they clasped their hands together. “Now get off me,” he finished triumphantly. “I have a bet to win.”


End file.
